An Old Tradition
by northernexposure
Summary: A year after Endgame, Kathryn prepares for a Janeway family Christmas. J/C fluff, re-posted from Christmas 2014.
1. Chapter 1

**An Old Tradition**

 **A/N:** I first posted this over Christmas of 2014. It's the only fic I haven't reposted and since it is Christmas-themed, I thought I'd tweak it a little and put it up now. It's five short chapters of nowt but fluff, written as a Christmas card to my fellow J/Cers and beta-read by the ever-dedicated MissyHissy3.

Happy festive season everyone, and here's wishing for a better year for all in 2017.

 **One**

It was cold – so cold that she paused in the doorway for a moment, shivering and stamping her feet. The heat emanating from the take-out cup held between both of her gloved hands was succeeding in warming her fingers but not much else. She breathed in, feeling ice on the crisp air, tasting the fresh chill of it on her tongue with delight despite its sharp nip. The city was coated in white and as it fell, the snow gently layered everything in the kind of soft, forgiving silence that Kathryn Janeway had craved for seven years. Here she was, on Earth, feeling the change of the seasons for herself. It had been over a year since _Voyager_ 's return, yet still she sometimes found herself stopped in her tracks by the wonder of that simple fact. Home. She was _home_.

Using one hand to pull her woollen hat further down over her ears, Janeway stepped out from beneath the awning of the coffee shop she'd found and turned along the busy street. Beneath her boots the snow crunched and slid as she dodged the shoppers eddying around her. The smell of chocolate filled the air as she passed a confectioners; the sound came to her of children giggling and laughing as their parents attempted to prevent the start of a snowball fight. Kathryn walked as if through a cloud of collective joy. The mood was catching – she found herself smiling as she stopped to look in each of the colourful shop windows in turn, contemplating the intricate displays and explosion of festive lights within.

Janeway was about to turn the corner into another street when she became aware of a voice, shouting at her from some distance.

"Admiral? Admiral Janeway?"

The use of her title jarred her somewhat - she was off duty and so far out of uniform that she'd thought herself unrecognisable. Kathryn steeled herself and kept walking, upping her pace a little as she realised with slight dismay that the street she'd stepped into was quieter than the last one, with less of a crowd to hide her. She guessed she should have been prepared for this – in San Francisco, she was a known commodity and although in the first months after _Voyager_ had first slid into orbit she'd been inundated by autograph and photograph seekers, it rarely happened there any longer. Here, though, in Paris, it seemed that someone had found her notable. She pulled her scarf up a little more and kept walking. Usually she'd be happy to accommodate admirers, but today, she just wanted to be another one of the myriad of shoppers who seemed to have temporarily deserted her.

"Admiral?"

The voice was closer this time, but still she didn't turn.

" _Kathryn_?"

The use of her name, coupled with her sudden recognition of who was speaking, brought her up short. She spun on her heels, her coffee sloshing dangerously in its cup.

He was standing several feet away, a thick black wool coat not quite hiding the distinctive grey of his Captain's uniform.

"Chakotay!"

Her former first officer smiled and moved closer. "Another minute and I would have given up," he said, "but I was sure it was you. It's good to see you, Admiral."

"And you, Captain." She looked him over, noting the slight flash of silver at his temple and the additional creases at the corner of his eyes. "How are you? What are you doing in Paris, of all places?"

"I'm well, thank you." He glanced around as a sudden flurry of people buffeted around them before sliding away along the street. "The _Fortune_ is in space dock for a re-fit, so I'm on leave for the next two weeks." He shrugged. "I've slowly been getting to know Earth better over the last year. Paris was next on my list."

Janeway smiled. "You've picked a good time of year. Paris is beautiful all year round, but it outdoes itself at Christmas."

Chakotay nodded. "Until I arrived here, I hadn't realised just how popular the festival still was for a lot of people on Earth." He smiled again. "I guess, with your traditionalist upbringing, the same goes for you?"

"Oh yes," she said, with a laugh, "my mother insists on it. In two days' time I'll be ensconced on her sofa in Indiana, waiting for turkey with all the trimmings."

"What, no helping in the kitchen?" he asked, a softly familiar teasing tone entering his voice. "Or does your mother know better than to let you near the food?"

She shot him a playfully dangerous look. "Careful, Captain. I still out rank you, uniform or not, remember?"

Chakotay smiled, but even so there was a fraction of a pause before he said, quietly, "As if I would ever forget _that_ , Kathryn."

She felt a slight flush rise to colour her cheeks and couldn't imagine why it had chosen that moment to appear.

"Anyway – I haven't asked how you are, Admiral," he went on, apparently oblivious to her discomfort. "You look well."

"I am, thank you," she said, recovering. "I've got some time off myself now, which I'm grateful for. It's been a busy few months."

Chakotay glanced at the cup in her hands. "I would ask you to join me for coffee to catch up, but I see you've beaten me to it."

She laughed at herself. "Yes. Some things never change, do they?"

He smiled. "There are some things I would never want to change. The image of you with coffee in your hands is one of them."

It was such a simple statement, but the words brought alive a spark in her that was familiar and yet almost forgotten. Janeway swallowed, feeling that damned flush rise in her cheeks for the second time in as many minutes. She glanced at the coffee in her hand. Had they added brandy to it, or something?

"Anyway," he went on, "I've been told I must visit the Louvre while I'm here. I need to go book an advance ticket. Otherwise I may find myself standing in line for hours in this snow and to be honest, this weather isn't something I'm used to."

Kathryn smiled. "Well, thank you for saying hello, Chakotay. It's lovely to see you again. For my part, if I don't get my act together and actually buy some presents, I'll be _persona non grata_ on Christmas day." She registered belatedly registered something in what he'd said. "Are you spending your leave alone, Captain?"

"Only part of it – I'm booked in to visit an altogether different kind of Paris in a few days," he told her. "Between you and me, I've got the feeling Tom's hoping that Uncle Chakotay might be a calming influence on Miral. I think she's already becoming a bit of a handful…"

Janeway laughed. "Given her parentage, that really doesn't surprise me in the slightest. Well, I wish you luck – _Uncle_ Chakotay."

He gave her a warm smile. "And I wish you luck with your shopping, Admiral. Merry Christmas, isn't that the saying?"

"It is. And a Merry Christmas to you, too."

Chakotay nodded, still smiling, and a moment later he was walking away. Kathryn stood, watching him go. It had started to snow again, large soft flakes that brushed against her cheeks and tickled her nose. They flurried in his wake, conspiring to hide him from view. As he went, she was left wondering where the sudden urge not to let him go had come from.

[TBC]


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

There was snow in Indiana on Christmas Eve, but compared to Paris it was just a smattering. The house was warm and smelled of Christmas: ginger and cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves - the same scent she could remember as far back as her memory would stretch.

Kathryn sat in the well of calm offered by the living room, dressed in an old sweater and jeans. Curled in her father's old armchair, a mug of mulled cider in her hands, she contemplated the tree. Gretchen, Phoebe and Kathryn's two nieces had already finished dressing it by the time she'd arrived, the whirlwind of the children's Christmas excitement so extreme that it had pebble-dashed her as she'd walked through the door and into the storm of their small hugs. It was only the second Christmas they had spent with their fabled, almost-lost aunt – last year she had been too much of a stranger for them to be comfortable in her presence. This year, it appeared, was different – which was wonderful, but also a little overwhelming. So it was that Kathryn had sought this little spell of solitude in the middle of the evening, though in the quiet she had somehow found melancholy rather than calm.

The door opened behind her. Kathryn twisted around the high back of her chair to see who it was and smiled at her mother.

"Do you need to me to do anything?" she asked, as Gretchen came toward her. "Sorry, I was just stealing a moment."

Gretchen Janeway shook her head and waved a hand as she settled into one of the other chairs. "It's all under control. Phoebe's putting the girls to bed – you might want to go up and say goodnight in a little while."

Kathryn smiled. "I will."

"Did you manage to get all your presents wrapped?"

"Yes, it's all done. Thank you for the loan of dad's study, and for the gift wrap. Oh, and I hope you don't mind – I used your terminal to call Bess. I wanted to talk to her in case tomorrow is too busy and I forget."

"Ahh – good, I was going to ask if you'd spoken to your godmother," Gretchen nodded slowly. "I thought you were up there a long time."

"Sorry. Next year I really will try not to leave it all until the last minute, I promise."

Gretchen smiled. "There's nothing to apologise for. We're just all glad to have you here. I was worried Starfleet wouldn't grant you any leave this year."

"I wouldn't miss another one of these for the world, you know that," Kathryn said, softly, gazing at the tree again. "Seven years in the Delta Quadrant without a Janeway family Christmas…"

"Did you miss it?"

Kathryn looked at her mother again, surprised at the question. "Of course I did."

Gretchen smiled. "Once you wouldn't have. I can remember a time when you were a teenager that you'd have given anything to knock this tradition on the head. Now what was it you called it? 'Outmoded nonsense', I think it was."

The younger woman smiled a little sadly, looking down at her drink. "Well, what do any of us know when we're that young?" she murmured. "I can't imagine wanting to be anywhere else at this time of year now. Especially after not being here for so long."

"You didn't have any celebration of the sort on _Voyager_?"

"We had Prixin – a Talaxian tradition that Neelix introduced us to." Kathryn smiled slightly, remembering some of those occasions. "But it wasn't the same."

"Does it all seem a long time ago now? Everything that happened on _Voyager_ , I mean?"

Kathryn's surprise continued. It had been a while since her mother had brought up the ship and her long journey home. "It does, in a way. Life back on Earth is so different."

"Do you miss it at all?"

She took a mouthful of her drink and swallowed before answering. She had the sense this was leading up to something, but couldn't imagine what. "Why would I?"

"It was seven years of your life, Kathryn. There must have been something good in it."

"It was seven years of guilt, duty and desperately trying to get my people home, mom. It's not something I'd willingly relive."

Silence drifted between them for a while, and then Gretchen said, "Do you know who I was just thinking about? That first officer of yours – Chakotay."

Caught off guard, Kathryn flashed her mother a look that must have been full of astonishment.

"I just wondered how he was," Gretchen continued. "Whether you'd seen him recently."

"Why do you ask that?"

Gretchen held something up for her to see. Kathryn frowned at it for a moment, and then realised it was one the notepads her mother kept by the communication terminal. Another old-fashioned habit Gretchen Janeway refused to break – using a real pen and paper to note down details she needed to remember. Her mother held the notepad out to her and Kathryn took it.

"Took me a while to place where I'd seen that before," said her mother.

Kathryn stared at the surface of the pad, where a series of doodles had been scrawled repeatedly in pen. It was a recurring motif, tentatively geometric in design: a semi-circle, from which lines led – two curved closed, two curved open, five short and straight.

"Well, would you look at that," she murmured.

"It's his tattoo. Isn't it?"

Kathryn took another mouthful of her drink. "I bumped into him yesterday. In Paris, of all places," she shook her head. "Guess it lodged in my head more than I thought."

"He was in Paris?"

"Yes, on leave, he said. His ship's in for work."

"Didn't he end up with the Borg girl? Seven?"

"She's neither Borg, nor a girl, mom," Kathryn told her. "Annika. Her name is Annika."

"Was she there, too?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm not sure sightseeing would be her kind of thing."

"So what happened?"

Kathryn frowned. "When?"

Gretchen sighed. "When do you think? When you bumped into him."

"What happened? Nothing. We talked for a few minutes and then we went our separate ways, that's all. We were both busy." Her mother looked at her in silence for so long and so steadily that Kathryn felt herself bristling. "What?"

Gretchen shook her head. "You know, when you and Phoebe were teenagers, I used to ask your grandmother for advice. Mainly about the boys the two of you were forever falling in love with. I tell you, it was endless. If you didn't have a broken heart, it was your sister - and then I'd get her through it and it'd be you again. I used to be at my wits' end. You know one of the best pieces of advice she gave me, even though at the time I thought it made no sense whatsoever?"

"I don't know where you're going with this, but…"

"She said, 'Gretchen, it's not the ones they tell you about that you need to take notice of. It's the ones they don't talk about at all that you should worry about.' I didn't understand that one bit. But you know how I knew that Justin was the one for you? Because in all your letters home from the academy, you never really talked about him. Sure, his name came up as a result of your working together, but there was never anything significant, nothing really personal. Then, out of the blue over the comm., you told me you'd been out with him for dinner a few times. I'll never forget that conversation. Your eyes were the prettiest blue I'd ever seen. I finally got what your grandmother meant. And I knew, then and there, that this time you really were in love."

Kathryn rubbed a hand over her eyes. "Mom, please don't-"

"You never talked about Chakotay, Kathryn. You spent every day with him for seven years, but you never told me about him. Not the way you told me all about Tom and Harry's exploits on the holodeck, or moaned about Neelix's cooking, or sounded infuriated about the Doctor's latest demands. Chakotay? A line here and there, maybe, but nothing personal. And I always did wonder."

Kathryn shook her head, passing the pad back. "He was my second in command, mom, that's all."

Gretchen held up the paper in her hand. "Is that right? You know, if your father had ever absent-mindedly doodled a picture of his second in command on a notepad, it probably would have broken my heart, whatever explanation he'd given me afterwards."

Kathryn let the silence settle around them. She thought about shutting down completely - moving the conversation on, ignoring what her mother was asking. But suddenly, somehow, she found herself speaking, instead. "Nothing ever happened between us," she said. "It couldn't, not out there. And then…"

"Then what?"

"He got tired of waiting. And he met someone else."

Gretchen nodded. "I'm sorry."

Kathryn swallowed the last of her drink. "Don't be. My ship, my rules. He deserved to be happy, and I couldn't – wouldn't - give him what he needed. Apparently she could."

"How long is it since you've seen him?"

"I don't know, exactly. Over a year. And it'll probably be the same or longer before I see him again – if I see him again at all."

Her mother was quiet for a long time. Then she stood up and crossed to where Kathryn sat, running her hands through her hair the way she used to when her girls were children. "My beautiful girl. I'm sorry."

Kathryn took her mother's hand and looked up with a small smile. "I told you. Don't be. I got the ship home. I'm home. I'm here, with you all. That's more of a happy ending than I was ever expecting. It's all I need."

Gretchen nodded, though her face looked as if she might like to argue the point. But to her credit, all she said when she spoke was, "Thank you. For telling me about it. I've missed you, Kathryn. I've missed you talking to me like a daughter."

Kathryn kissed Gretchen's hand. "I've missed it, too."

[TBC]


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

Christmas day dawned in a flurry of excitement inside the house, matched by a fresh flurry of snow, swirling in an icy wind that danced with the trees outside. The girls – Harriet and Nia – were up early, their chatter filling the house with happy ripples of childish glee. Kathryn, who had been awake for hours, slipped into their bedroom and joined them as they opened the contents of their stockings. It was only as she sat there beside the youngest, Nia, that it occurred to Kathryn just what an ingenious idea a Christmas stocking was. In the time it took for the girls to open every little parcel and marvel over its contents, the sun had risen a little more and the rest of the adults in the house had managed to get an extra hour in bed.

She was making coffee as Phoebe came into the kitchen. The sisters embraced. "Happy Christmas, big sister," Phoebe said sleepily. "Are the girls all right?"

"They're fine. I was just going to give them some breakfast."

Phoebe squeezed her shoulder. "You're an angel. Maybe I'll just go back and join Doug in bed again…"

Kathryn laughed. "You'd never have survived on my ship, lazy bones."

"Yeah, yeah," her sister mumbled. "Try having two children under seven and see how tough you are _then_ , Admiral lady."

Gretchen was the next to appear, smiling to see her two daughters laughing over coffee in her kitchen. Phoebe's husband Doug descended next, hugging his wife and daughters and kissing Kathryn and Gretchen on the cheek.

 _It's good to be here,_ Kathryn told herself, as they got down to the serious business of celebration. _There's nothing missing. What you're thinking of as a gap is just tiredness, that's all._

She smiled as her brother-in-law passed her a glass of Prosecco. Yes. She was just tired, that was it.

The turkey had gone in as soon as Gretchen had gotten up, which left just the vegetables to prepare. The four adults put off doing more until mid-morning and then, once everyone was showered and dressed, they left the children playing in the living room and piled into the kitchen to assist with Christmas lunch.

"Mom, you've catered for an entire starship," Kathryn said, as more and more fresh produce appeared on the table to be prepared. "We'll never get through all this! You've got two squashes here. Surely we only need one?"

Gretchen emptied a bag of carrots onto the work surface and reached for a knife, waving it briefly at her daughter before starting to peel them. "Always better to have too much rather than not enough," she said, "and anyway, you only need to prepare one of these. The other one's going in as it is. I saw a new recipe I want to try – whole-baked squash with chilli butter. Sounds divine."

"If you say so…"

"I do say so, Kathryn, and don't you forget it," said her mother, looking at her closely for a second. "Today, it's going to be a case of my house, my rules. Got it?"

"Got it," Kathryn laughed. "But don't blame me if we have to drag strangers in off the street just so all of this doesn't go to waste!"

"Speaking of strangers," Phoebe said, standing by the window that looked out over the long path that led up to the house, "who's that on his way here?"

"It'll be one of the neighbours," Doug said, moving to look over his wife's shoulder. "With a late card, perhaps. Should we invite him in, Gretchen? It's cold out there. We've got another bottle of Prosecco."

"It's not one of the neighbours," Gretchen said, without even pausing to look, "but I definitely intend to ask him in."

Kathryn frowned, picking up a knife to make a start on the potatoes. "Why? Who is it? Did you invite someone else for Christmas lunch?"

Her mother looked up at her with a slight smile. "Why don't you go and find out?"

"What?"

"Oh!" Phoebe said, still looking out of the window. "Actually, I think I know him. Yes - I do. Kathryn – it's that first officer of yours from _Voyager_. It's Chakotay, isn't it? The one with the tattoo."

Kathryn froze the moment Chakotay's name passed Phoebe's lips, dropping her hands to the table and staring across it at her mother.

"Look, Kathryn," Phoebe was saying. "It is him, isn't it? What's he doing here? He's in uniform. They're not going to drag you off to some work thing on Christmas day, are they? They wouldn't!"

"What did you do?" Kathryn asked her mother, in a whisper.

Her mother looked back at her steadily. "I called in a favour or two that Owen Paris has owed me for a very long time."

Kathryn felt the hand holding the knife convulse, clutching it tightly against the wooden table. She felt sick. " _What_? What favours?"

Gretchen shrugged and then calmly went back to her chopping. "I asked him to check a personnel record for me. And then, depending on the answer to my question, I asked him to issue an order."

She couldn't breathe. "An order?"

"I should think he's about to knock on the door," Gretchen observed. "I'd go and talk to him, if I were you."

" _What_ order?"

Gretchen continued to chop. "Just for Captain Chakotay to report here to this address, that's all."

"Why?"

"No reason given. You can come up with that yourself."

Kathryn threw down the knife. It skidded angrily across the wooden table. "I don't believe this. Why would you do that? Why? What made you think this is something I'd want? How am I supposed to explain that he's just been dragged half way across the planet for no reason at all? What am I supposed to _say_?"

"I'm sure you'll come up with something."

"Really? You don't want to treat me a little _more_ like a child and work that out, too?"

Gretchen dropped her knife and put her hands flat on the table, facing Kathryn with narrowed eyes. "Not 'a' child, Kathryn – _my_ child. And I don't care whatever else you are, my girl, you will always be my child. Now I saw your heart break once and that time it nearly killed you, so if you think I'm going to watch it happen again without at least trying to do something about it, you've got even less sense than I gave you credit for." Gretchen picked up the knife again and resumed chopping. "Now go and open the door before he freezes to death."

The kitchen was silent apart from the sound of Gretchen's knife. Kathryn stayed still, staring at her mother, angry and helpless and wondering what the hell to do. A second later the sharp knock at the front door made her jump even though she'd been waiting for it. Infuriated, Kathryn made a sound in her throat and moved toward it.

"I said I'd asked Owen to check something in the personnel records," Gretchen said, as Kathryn reached the kitchen door. "Don't you want to know what?"

Kathryn placed one hand on the doorjamb and half-turned back to her mother, but didn't look at her.

Gretchen reached for another carrot. "He lists his relationship status as single. So does Annika Hansen. According to Tom Paris, they split up over six months ago." There was another knock at the door. "Well?" Gretchen asked. "Are you going to leave him standing there all day? Or are you planning on hiding us all under the sofa and pretending there's no one here?"

Kathryn crossed the hallway to the front door, pausing and taking a deep breath as she reached for the handle. Then she pulled the door open, feeling a gust of cold winter air wash over her. Outside was Chakotay, the slight frown of puzzlement on his face turning to astonishment as he saw her.

"Admiral?"

"Chakotay." She nodded to indicate the veranda behind him and he stepped back as she followed and pulled the door shut behind her.

"I received orders from Admiral Paris," he said, holding up a PADD. "They came through this morning, telling me to report here."

Kathryn held out her hand. "Can I see?" She glanced over the data on the tablet, noting that it had indeed been signed by Owen Paris. Wonderful. Her humiliation was complete. Almost, anyway.

"Kathryn?" Chakotay asked, "What's going on? It must be something big to interrupt you at home. Is it the Borg? Is there-"

Janeway held up a hand. "There's nothing to worry about. I'm sorry about this, it was – a misunderstanding."

Chakotay was looking more mystified by the minute. "A misunderstanding? It was an order from the Admiralty."

Kathryn rubbed a hand over her face. "I know. Please accept my apologies, Captain. I'll reimburse any credit you had to expend to get here and I'll see that you receive a day of leave in lieu of this interruption. But you don't need to be here. You can go."

"Go?" Chakotay repeated. "Kathryn, I've only just got here."

"I know, as I said-"

"Just tell me what's going on. Are you in trouble?"

"No," she said, _although my mother certainly is_. "Look, Chakotay…"

The door opened behind them. Kathryn turned to see her mother.

"Captain Chakotay, isn't it?"

Chakotay nodded, "Yes ma'am. Mrs Janeway, I believe?" He stepped closer and held out a hand, taking Gretchen's and shaking it gently. "My apologies for the interruption – I know this is a special day for your family. There seems to have been some sort of mistake…"

"Does that mean you have somewhere else to be, Chakotay?"

"Mother," Kathryn warned.

"Chakotay?"

Chakotay looked between the two women in confusion. He paused, and then shook his head. "No. Well – I did have a visit to the Louvre booked, but that's…"

"Well then, since you're here, you may as well join us for dinner. There's plenty to go around. I think I read somewhere that you're vegetarian, isn't that right? I'm trying this new squash dish…"

" _Mother_."

"Gretchen shot her a look. "My house, my rules, Kathryn. Remember? Please, Chakotay. We would love you to join us."

Kathryn glanced at Chakotay to find him watching her carefully.

"Admiral?" he said, softly. "I don't know-"

"Oh, that's another thing," Gretchen added. "In this house we check the ranks at the door. Come inside when you're ready both of you, I'm letting the heat out." She disappeared again, shutting the door.

Silence reigned for a moment. In it Kathryn could still feel Chakotay watching her.

"Kathryn?" he asked. "Can you please tell me what's going on?"

Janeway crossed her arms, shivering slightly as the chill wind gusted around them, despite the hot flush of embarrassment in her cheeks. She couldn't even look at him. "I'm sorry, Chakotay. I had no idea she'd done it. She and Owen Paris go way back."

"Your _mother_ got him to order me here?" Chakotay asked, "But why?"

Kathryn couldn't really think of an appropriate way to answer that.

"Kathryn?" Chakotay prompted, stepping closer. "Why? Why would she do that?"

"I was a little distracted after we bumped into each other," she replied, eventually, with a sigh. "I think she picked up on it and… read more into my mood than she should have."

There was a pause before he said, "I see."

"So," Kathryn said, steeling herself as she made a decision. "Do you want to stay for lunch? It's the least we can do given how far you came under false pretences."

He smiled slightly. "Well, I guess we didn't really have much chance to catch up in Paris…"

"No," she agreed, "we didn't."

"To tell you the truth, I've been distracted since then, too. I can't help but think that I should have made more of an effort," Chakotay said. "After all, it's been too long since we've spoken really, hasn't it?"

Janeway nodded. "It has."

"And I'm here now, so…"

"Yes," said Kathryn. "You're here now. So you might as well stay."

[TBC]


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

If Kathryn Janeway had been under the impression that seven years in the Delta Quadrant had prepared her for anything, she was mistaken. Nothing could have readied her for the surprise of finding herself standing beside her former first officer in the kitchen of her mother's home as they both occupied themselves with – of all things – the preparation of vegetables.

To say she felt awkward was an understatement. It didn't help that Chakotay clearly felt the same. They had barely said two words to each other since moving from the cold of the veranda to the warmth of the house. Surrounded as they were by curious eyes – Phoebe was even worse than her two daughters, and seemed completely unable to keep her gaze off their unexpected guest – their plan to catch up had stalled completely under the weight of scrutiny. Instead their conversation had consisted of remarks about the task at hand, and Chakotay fielding endless questions from the two little girls, who seemed to be drawn to him like miniature magnets.

"Were you and aunt Kathryn on the same ship?"

"Yes, we were."

"What's that on your face?"

"It's a tattoo."

"Why is it there?"

"It's a symbol of my people. I wear it to honour them."

"Why?"

"So that I always remember where I come from."

"Does it come off?" (This from Nia, the four-year-old, who when answered in the negative, insisted on him kneeling down so that she could check for herself, just to make sure.)

"Don't you sometimes want a different one?"

"No. This one is part of me. I don't think I'd look like me if it was suddenly different."

"You could have different colour. Pink would be nice. Or purple." (This from Nia again. That one made him laugh.)

"Oh, I think black is just fine."

"But why?"

And so on. Chakotay didn't seem to mind, fielding all their curiosity with good-natured replies until Phoebe finally shooed both of the girls out of the room. She reappeared a moment later, failing to be subtle in any way as she told Doug that she 'needed his help' before dragging him out of the room, too. With Gretchen also elsewhere, Kathryn and Chakotay were finally left alone.

"Well," Chakotay said quietly, after a moment. "This really isn't what I expected to be doing today."

Kathryn glanced at him. He'd removed his uniform jacket and at Gretchen's insistence had also taken the pips from the collar of his turtleneck.

"It comes as rather a surprise to me, too. I really am sorry, Chakotay."

He looked up at her with a smile that was surprisingly warm. "Don't be. It's been a long time since I was in a family house like this. I'm just sorry if it's causing you embarrassment."

She gave a short laugh. "It's only what I deserve for opening my big mouth. I should have known better than to confide my woes to my mother."

Chakotay paused in his task and looked at her curiously. "Oh? What was it you told her, exactly?"

Kathryn kicked herself as she felt a flush wash over her cheeks, and then shook her head. "Oh… it was… nothing at all, really. I think she just thought I was upset about something."

"And… she thinks I'm the solution to that?" Chakotay asked, slowly.

She sighed heavily. "Who knows what goes through that woman's mind. After today I will give up trying to work it out."

"But is she right?" he asked. "Am I?"

Kathryn dropped her knife and reached for her glass of wine, taking a large slug of it before she looked at him again. "Well, seeing old friends is always a balm for the soul, isn't it?"

Chakotay looked at her for a moment, his face serious, and then he smiled. "'Old friends'," he repeated, quietly. "For old friends, we seem to find it very difficult to keep in touch."

She put down her glass, clearing her throat. "Yes, we do."

"We should do something about that, don't you think?"

Kathryn's eyes traced over the familiar landscape of his face and the curl of his tattoo before reaching his eyes and holding his look with a small smile and a even smaller nod.

The kitchen door opened with a flourish as Gretchen bustled through it with an armful of table linen.

"Come on now, you two. Less gazing at each other, more getting those in the oven, please."

Lunch was a success, although since nothing less than perfect had ever come out of Gretchen's kitchen since Kathryn had left home, that was of no real surprise to anyone. Chakotay declared the squash a delicious triumph and generally charmed the family so severely that despite sitting opposite him at the table, Kathryn barely got a word in edgeways from the moment they took their places. Instead she sat back, cringing silently as he was bombarded by questions from the rest of her family. Subjects ranged from his own family background to their time together in the Delta Quadrant, and although some – notably the ones from Doug – were asked out of genuine interest, she could tell that most of the ones asked by her mother and sister had distinct ulterior motives.

"Kathryn must have relied on you a lot, Chakotay," Gretchen said, finally, "I do hope she showed you her appreciation."

Chakotay looked at Kathryn with a smile before addressing her mother, "It was my pleasure to serve with such an exceptional captain. Your daughter is an extraordinary officer, Mrs Janeway."

"It's Gretchen, Chakotay," the older woman told him, "and however exceptional my daughter is, she didn't bring that ship home alone. I'm pretty sure having you by her side for all those years was a major part of it. Am I right, Kathryn?"

Kathryn smiled. "Of course you are. Without Chakotay, we'd probably still be there."

"That's nonsense, Kathryn," he told her. "You would have got that ship home with or without me. I've never seen anyone with more drive in my life. You are astonishing."

Kathryn took a mouthful of wine, shaking her head. "You were the one who kept me sane. Maybe I never told you that and maybe I should have. Having you there was like having a rock to lean on, every single day. I miss that. I miss-" she pulled herself up short, realising what she was about to say.

There was a silence. They looked at each other across the table, and Kathryn was reminded of the times they had sat like this, in exactly the same way, across the desk in her ready room or the table in her quarters with the weight of everything she never let herself say aloud hanging between them.

"Is it time for presents yet?"

Kathryn jumped slightly as Nia's question broke the silence like a crack of lightning.

"Not yet," said Gretchen, her voice sounding strangely soft. "Dessert first, Nia, then clearing up, then presents."

"Awwwwwww…" Nia's face screwed up into a mess of crinkles, the sure sign that an epic tantrum was imminent.

"Come here, and we'll play a game with your aunt." Chakotay pulled the huffing child onto his lap, and placed his hands flat on the table. "Put your hands on top of mine," he told the little girl and then once she had, he looked at Kathryn and said, "Now, Aunt Kathyn is going to put her hands on the table, too, so that the tips of her fingers are touching mine." Kathryn raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't move. "Come on, Kathryn," Chakotay prompted, a twinkle in his eye, "Or are you too scared?"

That got her going. She moved her wine glass and then laid her hands flat on the table, extending her arms until her nails brushed against the tips of his fingers. "Scared?" she repeated, "Fat chance, Captain."

Chakotay grinned at the challenge in her voice. "Well then. Let's see how good your reaction times are… Admiral." Then he spoke into Nia's ear, while still looking across at Kathryn. "We're going to try and catch her hands, Nia, and Aunt Kathryn is going to try to pull them away before we can. Then it'll be her turn to try and catch ours. Ready?"

The little girl nodded solemnly, eyes fixed on Kathryn's hands. Kathryn herself had no idea how this was supposed to work. She narrowed her eyes, watching Chakotay's hands where they lay on the table.

"Oh no," Chakotay told her, "you have to look at me, not at my hands. That's cheating. And we don't like cheats, do we, Nia?"

Kathryn, defiant, looked him in the eye. His were laughing at her, though his face was carefully neutral. "Fine. Happy now?"

"Better."

"I don't know what – Oh!" She jumped as lightning-quick, Chakotay moved his hand, Nia's going with it, bringing it down on top of her left one.

He grinned as he withdrew his hand. "One to us, Nia!"

"That wasn't fair!" Kathryn protested, "I wasn't ready! I didn't know what you were going to do!"

"Too bad. Your turn. Do your worst. Ahh – don't look!"

Kathryn narrowed her eyes again, staring at him. A second later she jerked her hand forward but he was ready for her, dodging his out of her way so that her palm slapped down on the table with a thump.

"Too slow, Kathryn."

"I was not! You must have cheated!

"Keep telling yourself that… My turn…"

This time he kept her hanging for a minute or more. More than once Kathryn moved her hand although he hadn't moved his. His eyes were still laughing at her. Infuriating man, she thought. What did I ever see in h-

Bang! His hand caught hers again, trapping it between the warmth of his palm and the table. She jumped again, cursing under her breath. She missed him again, making Nia dissolve into an uncontrollable fit of giggles.

"Aunt Kathryn can't do it!"

"I can too! I just… haven't had much practice."

Chakotay shook his head, smiling broadly. "Of course. That must be it…" A second later her hand was caught beneath his again.

"Oh, you…" She struck back quickly, missing him again, and then again, becoming more and more animated with each attempted strike. He missed her once, but caught her on every other attempt. The last time she could have avoided it, almost moving her hand fast enough, but still he caught her fingers. Instead of trapping them on the table, Chakotay curled them under his own as she tried to pull them away.

"I got that one!"

"No, you didn't," he told her, laughing, "almost but not quite doesn't count."

"You cheat!" she cried, still trying to free her fingers from his grip, dissolving into laughter. "You'd never beat me in a fair fight!"

"Actually, I believe I already have…"

The game descended into a brief and indecorous tug of war as Chakotay reached out and grabbed her other hand, pinioning both under his and refusing to let go. Nia, still on Chakotay's lap, did her best to help him as Kathryn, still laughing, struggled to pull her fingers from his grip. She felt Nia's eyes watching her for a second, before out of the blue the little girl said:

"I think my aunt Kathryn is very pretty when she laughs. Isn't she? I wish she would laugh more."

Chakotay's eyes met Kathryn's over the child's head with a smile warm enough that she felt it right at her core. Kathryn finally succeeded in wrenching her hands out of his and reached for her wine glass. Glancing up the table, she suddenly realised that the rest of the adults had been watching them and their silly game. Gretchen had one elbow on the table, her chin resting in her hand, a small smile on her face.

Kathryn cleared her throat, eager to move the day on. "It must be time for presents now, surely?" she said innocently, precipitating, as she'd calculated, an avalanche of excited noise from the two children that more than cancelled out her laughter of a moment before, if not the persistent red cast to her cheeks.

[TBC]


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

There was no stopping the children once the suggestion of presents had entered the equation. The adults gave up, deciding to save dessert for later in favour of gift-opening first. Kathryn and Chakotay helped Gretchen clear the table, listening to the rising tide of excitement in the next room as the two girls set about dividing up the presents into piles for each person.

"Just put everything on the side, we'll sort it out later," Gretchen said of the dirty dishes. "Then come and sit down."

Chakotay looked hesitant. "Mrs Janeway-"

"Gretchen."

"Gretchen," he corrected himself with a smile. "Lunch was wonderful and I appreciate you inviting me to share it with you all. But now I really think I should leave. I don't wish to impose on your family time any longer."

Kathryn turned away, a little surprised at how sharp the stab of disappointment that shot through her ribcage was at his words.

"But you haven't had any dessert," Gretchen protested. "And anyway, it's not an imposition at all. We'd love you to stay. Wouldn't we, Kathryn?"

"I think we've probably taken up more than enough of Captain Chakotay's leave already," she said, turning around again, perfectly composed. "It's about time we let him get back to exploring Paris."

"Nonsense," scoffed her mother. "What's the point of being in Paris alone? It's called the city of love for a reason."

Chakotay smiled. "Actually, I've missed my opportunity for sightseeing now, anyway. As I told Kathryn the other day, I'm visiting other friends while I'm on Earth, too – Tom and B'Elanna Paris, in fact. They're expecting me tomorrow morning."

"Well then, stay tonight," said Gretchen. "We've got a spare room. Why spend credits on a hotel or go all the way back to Starfleet digs in San Francisco when there's a perfectly good bed here?"

"Mom," said Kathryn. "He wants to go. Please just let him."

"Kathryn, why don't you ask him to stay?"

"Because he has perfectly good reasons for going, particularly since the only reason he's here in the first place is because he was ordered to be. Anyway, what's the poor man going to do? Sit around and watch us open presents? How is that going to be a good evening for him?"

Gretchen sighed, and then shrugged. "Well, I tried," she said. Then she went to Chakotay and pulled him into a hug. "It was good to meet you properly at last," she said. "Thank you for all you did for my daughter out there in the Delta Quadrant. I'm glad I've finally had a chance to say that in person. You're a good man, Chakotay."

Kathryn watched as Chakotay gently hugged her mother in return. "Thank you for your hospitality, Gretchen. It was the best meal I've had in a long time."

"You're always welcome in this house. Now, go say goodbye to the others and then Kathryn can see you out."

She shooed Chakotay in front of her and then, before Kathryn could follow, closed the kitchen door and turned sharply to her daughter.

"Kathryn, if you waste this you'll regret it for the rest of your life. And quite frankly, you'll deserve to."

Kathryn sighed. "Waste what? Mom, he's here because he had to come, he stayed because he was being polite. And now he's going because he wants to."

Gretchen shook her head. "How much more work are you doing to ask him to do?" she said. "He's been holding a door wide open for you all afternoon and all you've done is hesitate on the threshold. We can all see it. Why can't you?"

Kathryn threw up her hands, exasperated. "I've known him for eight years. _Eight_!" she hissed, quietly enough for her voice not to carry but fiercely enough to brook no argument. "For seven of those, we saw each other every single day. We lived next door to each other. We ate together. We talked and we talked, _and we_ _talked_. So maybe you could give me the benefit of the doubt and do me the courtesy of believing that perhaps – just perhaps – I know him better than you do. You said yourself that he's a good man. He is. He's the best man I know. In seven years in the Delta Quadrant, he never, not once, put himself first. He always made sure everyone else was happy, no matter what it cost him, and he was doing the same today. You embarrassed me by bringing him here, mom. Do you understand that? You _embarrassed_ me - and you embarrassed him, too. But he knows how important this ridiculous day is for this family and he knew what you wanted from him and he did his best to smooth things over because _that's the kind of man he is_. Now please – _please_ – let him go. I did. A long, long time ago."

With that, she opened the door and stepped past her mother, leaving a silent Gretchen behind her.

Chakotay was standing in the hallway, shaking Doug's hand. Phoebe kissed him on the cheek and then led her husband back into the living room, leaving them alone. Chakotay looked at her for a moment, a slight smile on his face. Kathryn smiled back, trying to mean it.

"Quick," she said, with a jocularity she didn't feel. "Let's get you outside before my insane family hatches some elaborate new conspiracy to trap you here."

Chakotay laughed and opened the front door. She followed him out into the cold air, pulling the door shut behind them and crossing her arms as the chill of the Indiana winter washed over her. They stood side by side for a moment, looking out over the landscape, which had somehow taken on a bleaker look than Kathryn had noted before.

"I know I can't make up for today, Chakotay," she said. "All I can do is apologise – again."

He shook his head, but didn't look at her. His gaze flicked over the landscape before them, instead. "There's no need, Kathryn," Chakotay said, softly. "They're the happiest few hours I've had for quite a while."

She smiled. "You should re-train as a diplomat. Starfleet would be grateful," she told him. "Your tact and patience are extraordinary."

Chakotay smiled. "I've never needed much of either around you."

Kathryn made a sound in her throat. "Well, I know for a fact that that is a lie."

He turned toward her, his smile transforming into a serious expression that darkened his eyes even further. "You're too hard on yourself."

She smiled again, trying to make the expression reach her eyes. "Hardly. Look at today. Although I suppose I should call it an improvement that this time you were only dragged across a planet, not a galaxy, and it was only for a day, not the best part of a decade."

He shook his head, a brief look of frustration passing across his face. "It wasn't down to you. But even if it had been – if you had sent me a message asking me to be here without any explanation at all, I would have come. You know that, don't you?"

Kathryn sighed. "I know you would. Which is exactly what I was telling my mother just now."

"No order necessary, Kathryn. You'd just have to ask. And if the shoe were on the other foot, you would do the same for me. Or at least, I think you would."

"Of course I would."

He nodded. He looked out at the wintery landscape for another moment, and then frowned. "What's that? It wasn't there earlier."

Kathryn looked in the direction that he nodded and couldn't help giving a half-laugh, half-sigh of exasperation. Suspended from the roof of the veranda over the steps that led down to the path was a small sprig of greenery.

"Don't ask," she told him. "Just a ridiculous final parting shot from my family. That must have been what Phoebe needed Doug's help with earlier."

Chakotay moved closer, curious. "What is it?"

"It's mistletoe," Kathryn said. "It's… an old tradition associated with Christmas. You don't want to know."

He looked over at her. "Why don't I?"

"Because it's as absurd as everything else that has happened today."

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, now you definitely have to tell me."

"If two people are caught standing under a branch of mistletoe, they're supposed to kiss," Kathryn told him as she walked over and pulled the greenery from its mooring. She looked at it briefly before turning to throw it onto the seat of the old bench that stood by the door.

Chakotay said nothing. When she turned back to him she found he was watching her.

"What?" she asked.

"Just wondering why you took it down."

She huffed a sigh of half-laughter that had nothing to do with mirth. "I think we've both been put on the spot enough for one day, don't you?"

"You think not having it up there will stop me wanting to kiss you?"

The question came from so far out of left field that for a second she thought she'd misheard. Kathryn stared at him, a low buzzing sound rising in her ears.

"I don't need an old tradition to make me want to do that, Kathryn," he told her. "All I'd need to know is that you'd want me to. It's all I ever would have needed to know. I came here because of an order, but I stayed because I wanted to, and I don't need mistletoe to make me think about the way I would like to say goodbye to you now."

The buzzing grew louder. Kathryn's breathing had fallen shallow and she knew she was still staring at him, but she couldn't tear her gaze away. Chakotay looked back at her, his eyes dark but bearing a question that demanded an answer.

She opened her mouth, but couldn't find her voice.

"I've missed you," he said, moving closer. "I didn't realise just how much until I saw you laughing at me from the other side of the table at lunch."

Her eyes were still fixed on his. "I've missed you, too," she said, trying to keep her voice even. "I _miss_ you."

"I want to kiss you," he told her, just a step away and speaking so softly she could only just hear him above the sound of the whirling wind. "I've wanted to kiss you for years. How many more chances do you think we're likely to get?"

Kathryn blinked, the jolt in her heart caused by his confession so powerful she felt lightheaded. "Maybe none," she whispered.

"Then please just come here," he said, reaching for her. Chakotay pulled her to him, hands cupping her face as hers found his waist and then swept up his broad back to his shoulders. Their lips met, softly at first, slowly, but quickening as sensation overtook them. He pushed her backwards, gently – tangled together they moved, stumbling against each other until Kathryn found herself against one of the veranda's supporting posts. Chakotay pressed himself against her, a warm, heavy weight that blocked out the cold of the day completely. His hands left her face and brushed her neck and shoulders before sliding slowly down her sides, and she shivered as she felt the power in them, the strength that had been her support for seven years.

The kiss ended slowly, although in some ways it didn't end at all. Kathryn rested her head on his chest and then leaned back against the post, looking up at him. He raised one hand to brush the hair away from her face. Neither of them was smiling – for some reason, the moment had too much import for that.

"Who needs tradition, that's what I say," Chakotay whispered.

Kathryn lifted a hand to touch his left temple. "Says the tattooed man…"

He did smile at that. "True."

Warm in his embrace, she whispered, "I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to leave."

His words thrilled her to her core. "But I also don't want… this… whatever this turns out to be… to belong to anybody but us. Does that make sense?"

Chakotay kissed her again, slowly, mouth full over hers, their noses brushing. "Yes. It does."

She brushed the short hairs at the back of his neck. "So what do we do?"

"Come to Paris with me."

"I thought you had to be somewhere else? _Uncle_ Chakotay?"

He smiled indulgently. "Meet me there next week. Let's see the New Year in together. Can you take more leave so soon?"

Kathryn smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

"New Year in Paris," Chakotay murmured, leaning in to her again. "Could be the start of a new tradition."

She pushed herself up on tiptoe, pressing herself against him to reach into another kiss. "Could be."

* * *

Kathryn stayed at the door, watching him walk away until his figure was lost between the skeletons of the leafless trees that edged the property. Even when she could no longer see him, she stopped outside a little longer, breathing in the cold air, processing what had passed between them. Her lips felt swollen from the weight of his kiss, and a delicious ache of anticipation had lodged itself low in her belly, where it would stay, she was sure, until they kept their date in Paris.

Eventually, not even the heat of their encounter was enough to keep the winter chill at bay. Kathryn opened the door and went inside, stamping her feet on the mat. Then she took a deep breath and walked into the living room.

Her mother was sitting in the same chair that she always did. Kathryn walked up to her and knelt beside her on the floor. Then she put her head in her mother's lap.

"We didn't need the mistletoe," she said.

Gretchen stroked her hair and smiled.

"I didn't think you would," she said. "That was Phoebe's idea."

[END]


End file.
